daisylifedream

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

in the jaws of late night conversation, the steam of our sweat puddles in my hands and I lay it on your chest clenching my fingers along-side your humble, breaking breast.the secrets of the night creep like strangers along the lines of your face.you store them under your tongue, saving them for battle when the west moon glow has all but won.my love is still an infant, still birthing its new pains; yours is swollen from a heartache; yet still similar of the same.with lead walls surrounding you on every other side, it’s hard to hear you thinking, it’s impossible to help you fly. it is a complicated matter, a noose whose hands deliberately choke my neck; preventing me from speaking, taking all my breath.I enable your behavior because I know that you need time, to understand this voyage and to reinvent your shine.but exhaustion feeds on wisdom, as it comes to me on waves, declaring the apparent, whispering my dismay.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

I am contemplating the degree of our severance.I am conscious inside the collapse of my lungs.in the long strands of beach that began our birth, I am covered in the sand stones that opened up the shells of our fears.the wake of our love is upon us. the doom of the past has befallen. jaded with desire I have left open the door in which I once walked. I now chase the vision of the dream I clutched ten winters ago in the platoon of my youth.it would seem that the lessons that are laced around my sometimes stubborn feet, are golden from the heat from the repetition of my mistakes.I have paced around the oddity of the shape of these walls … continually make-shifting and befriending the damaged who come to me in heartbreak, unable to withstand their sorrow, and too broken to sustain a fall.I am a reminder of all things past and of all things yet to come; a paradox of unrequited love.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

it is empty in the middle of us.wide open spaces charm the likelihood of our fate as the breeze begs we come to her like fallen stars in search of meaning.her breath is our savior as she holds both the vacancy of my distance and the secrets of your shadow in the palm of her hand. you are hidden in constant separation from the truth that would melt my fear and I am awakened with that certainty by the core of thenight.I cannot break you open in spite of my love, nor hold hostage your sweat as it releases by pages in the aftermath of my tears.our passions are paralleled, and only sometimes crisscross; and it is within that hollowness, that I shriek for our loss.